


Intercepted

by felicityollies



Series: Trick or Treat [5]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Demons, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Demons, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-22 19:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20879195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felicityollies/pseuds/felicityollies
Summary: Felicity prays; a demon answers.





	1. Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> it’s the time of year again! here is my annual Halloween fic. this year’s theme is DEMONS as voted by my followers. This first chapter is more like a prologue, but I swear my chapters will be longer with this fic! Anyway, I hope you enjoy :D

  
_Bring him back._

Ice cold words whispered across his skin. He shifted in his seat, not paying much mind to the words. He slouched back in his chair. His legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. In one hand he held a cane, long, sleek, and black; the tip was round, silver, and bulbous. His other arm was bent, resting on the armrest. His fingers pressed into his temple. He kept his eyes shut, ignoring the swirl of wind around him. It wasn’t often the demon found himself in such a situation. Or rather at all. The sounds grew louder. They tugged at his very being. These whispers shouldn’t be able to find him. He shouldn’t be able to hear them. This wasn’t his job. 

He willed the words to leave him be. They only became more frantic. 

_Help me. Help me. Help me. HELP ME! _

“Stop this,” he growled. 

He pressed the cane into the wooden floor and pushed himself to his feet. He sucked in a deep breath and walked his dark apartment. The walls were painted gray that was so dark it was almost black. The curtains which hung over the windows actually were black and shielded him from the obnoxious sun. His furniture was a mixture of metals and leather, dark and minimalistic. As old as he was he could have surrounded himself with antiques. He detested antiques. Why should he fill his home with things as old as he that were only going to collect dust? 

He passed a black and white painting. Modern and geometrical. It wasn’t quite straight, so he corrected it. The voice wrapped around him and penetrated his skull. It pierced it between the eyes, an almost violent, stabbing pain. Unanswered whispers, begging, nagging, pulling at him. He stumbled into the wall, pressing his palm into it. 

“Shit,” he wheezed. 

He needed to make this stop. The demon needed to find the source of these whispers. He was going to answer someone’s prayers.

* * *

Leathery black wings spread behind him. They resembled those of a bat, bony and pointed at the tips. He closed his eyes tight, placing his cane in front of him. He pressed his palm on the top of the cane and rest his other hand over the top. With a slow breath out, he focused on the prayers. The pain between his eyes dulled. Everything around him quieted. Nothing else mattered. Just the voice. It was as if he were standing in a tunnel surrounded by the voice. It was leading him down a path, guiding him toward the source. His world moved quickly. A rush of air swept past him and the tunnel was gone. 

He was ready to be angry. Furious even. Someone dared to interrupt his peace with their insipid prayers. He opened his eyes and found a small girl praying at her bedside. She knelt there in fuzzy pink pajamas. Her mousy brown hair was pulled back into two pigtails. Tears stained her rounded cheeks. “Please, bring my daddy back home. Make my family whole again.” Dammit. A child. Why did it have to be a child? The anger left his body with a sigh.

“I think that is a little over my pay grade,” he said. 

The girl scrambled away from her bed. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him standing in her room. “Sheydim.” _Demon._

He smirked. ”It’s Oliver.” 

“What are you doing here?”

“I heard you praying.” 

Tears filled her eyes again. “No.” It must have been devastating to be ignored by the powers above. “I need help.” 

Oliver was not one to fold under a sad face, but there was something about this child. “What is it that you are asking for?”

“My dad… he left. He left us. I want him back.” 

He knew that even if someone else did hear her there was no possible way they would have answered her. He kept himself from rolling his eyes. He never understood the way things worked with them. They were supposed to be the good ones and yet he knew from others prayers were passed by quite often. How do you choose who gets their prayers answered and who doesn’t? Who do you listen to and who do you ignore? Oliver shook his head. 

“What is your father’s name.” 

“Sheydim do not help,” she whispered, wiping her face. 

This time he did roll his eyes. “Then I shall leave.” 

“Wait!” The girl stood, reaching for him. She was an innocent. She had yet to see the world, though she knew pain. What she did not know was not to deal with demons. She wanted help and she was going to seek it out wherever she could. “His name is Noah Kuttler.” 

Oliver pulled a thin, black phone from his suit pocket. He leaned on his cane and typed one-handed. His screen lit up with information on Noah Kuttler. Noah’s soul was weak and destined to fall into the clutches of a demon like him. He could see just by looking at the girl in front of him that she had a shining light about her. If he focused hard enough he could see her soul blazing brightly in the middle of her chest. It was one of the brightest he had ever seen. It was his job to taint the brightest of the bright. 

The things that Noah did. If he brought this man back, he would no doubt dim her light and taint it within the next twenty years. This girl would be his for the taking in the future. She looked up at him with shining and wet blue eyes. His lip curled. If his boss found out about what he was going to do he would never hear the end of it. He slid the phone away. 

“Your father cannot come back.” 

“Wh-why?” 

Black pooled in his eyes, filling them with darkness. She startled, taking a step back. “He is a bad man. He would hurt you and your mother.” 

“I don’t believe you. Sheydim lie.” 

“Then why did I come and no one else. I know of all the bad men in the world.” The logic was sound enough. He watched as the thought rolled around in her head. She looked at him, really looked at him. 

“Leave me alone,” she finally said. 

“I will leave, but what I said is true.” 

“Leave!” 

He disappeared quicker this time because he knew where he was going. Back in his apartment things were quieter. The days passed and not a peep, not a whisper, not a single sound came. Weeks passed and he forgot about the girl entirely. She was not important to him and he had an actual job to do.


	2. Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: violence, abusive relationship

Twenty years later Oliver sat in a small cafe. Smells of coffee and other demons surrounded him. Demons smelled of musk and earth. Angels didn’t dare tread the same spaces as these creatures, but he would know one if he crossed paths. They smelled of freshly fallen rain and sunsets. He leaned over his table, his palm pressed into his forehead. A headache pierced him between the eyes. He hadn’t felt a pain like this in a very long time. His teeth clenched and he willed the pain to stop. A cup clattered against the table. He opened his eyes, glancing up to a woman, standing before him. She crossed her arms and pointed her chin upward. 

“I called your name.” 

“Dinah,” he warned. 

The other demon popped her hip and slipped her hands down to settle upon them. “I have work to do. Next time I’m throwing your coffee in the trash.” Her eyes bled to black and she bared her teeth at him. 

Some demons were best suited to blend in with society and take souls. She was not one of them. Dinah owned this cafe, a meeting place for demons of all sorts. It was an important hub. She played an important role, but she was not a demon to mess with. In her true form, she bore talons to shred, massive, golden wings, and a scream that could bring any man to their knees. The last person he had seen encounter her true form was brought to all fours, crying tears of blood. He did not survive. 

“Fine,” he muttered. 

She stomped away, back toward her place behind the counter. 

Oliver picked up his cup. Some of the dark coffee had sloshed up on the sides, but luckily it did not spill. He took a slow sip of the scalding liquid. It was much hotter temperature than what a human could usually handle. That was the way he liked it. His head throbbed and he nearly dropped his cup. He slammed it down, pressing his fingers into his temples. 

_Help me. Help me. Please. It hurts. _

“Shit.” The whispers were back. 

Twenty goddamned years and the whispers were back. He hadn’t thought about them. He thought it was a one time fluke. Rage boiled up inside of him. Why couldn’t he be left alone? He had a job to do and it didn’t involve prayers. He pushed himself away from the table. He gripped his cane and walked with purpose toward the exit. 

Oliver hit the street. Around him, humans passed the cafe as if nothing were there. All they saw was an abandoned building. They never even saw demons go in or out. He stood close enough to the building he wouldn’t be seen as he focused on the prayers again. Anger made it harder to focus. His wings spread out behind him. His ears elongated into a sharp point. He began to shift into his true form just to have enough power to travel. He gritted his teeth together. A growl formed in his throat. 

The tunnel around his vision formed. Finally. The pain between his eyes dulled once more. The voice begged him to stop their pain. He followed that voice down the tunnel. The world rushed passed him until the cafe and the street were gone. He stood in a bedroom. It wasn’t a child’s bedroom; it was a teen’s room, but there was a grown woman hiding inside of it. 

His demonic traits melted away until he stood there looking very human. The woman cowered on the bed. Her body shook with sobs. She had blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and he could see glasses being squished between her fingers. She wiped at her face, but refused to look toward him. He rolled his eyes, taking a step in her direction. He smacked his cane on the ground. 

“Shh,” she snapped. “He’ll hear you.” She wiped at her face again and slid the glasses on. He heard her swallow as she turned toward him. She slid her glasses on her face and looked up at him with shiny blue eyes. Those same shiny blue eyes which begged him for help twenty years ago. “Sheydim,” she spat the Hebrew word for demon at him again. “I thought I dreamed of you.” 

He smirked. “Good little Jewish girls don’t dream of demons.” 

“How good can I be if demons answer my prayers?” 

He could see her faith was shaken. He didn’t know why he was the only one that heard her prayers. It wasn’t his fault. Oliver noticed, as he watched her, his anger seemed to fade. Why couldn’t he stay angry with her? When he was a child it made sense. He had a soft spot for children. It was annoying but true. But now as he stood there looking at her, he couldn’t find the anger. 

His eyes moved over the twenty-seven-year-old. She had grown into a beautiful young woman. She stood there in the clothes she probably wore to work. A black pencil skirt, a pink blouse, and black pumps. Then he spotted it. A cut along her upper arm. He was so wrapped up in her being, in her confusion, he hadn’t noticed the slice in her clothing and the blood on her arm. 

He grabbed her arm rather roughly, just below the cut. “What is this?” 

She yelped. “My mother’s boyfriend…” 

He narrowed his eyes at the wound. A wave of anger flared up in him. He couldn't explain it. “He hurt you?” 

Tears welled up in her eyes again. “He hurt my mother first. I tried to stop him.” 

Oliver released her. She stumbled backward. A light hit her face and he noticed just how swollen her lower lip was. What could have been mistaken for a pouty lip was a wound. Sliced open with a ring, bloodied at one point, but now just swollen and healing. He reached out to tip her chin with his finger to get a better look at her. She swiped at his hand and moved further away from him. 

“Stop touching me.” 

He shook his head. “What is your name, human?” 

She watched him carefully as if she were deciding whether or not she could trust him with her name. “Felicity. Felicity Smoak,” she finally said. “You’re Oliver. I remember you told me that. Is there a last name that goes with that or what?” 

“Only Oliver.” 

“Okay, Only Oliver, are you going to help me this time?” 

“Did you not believe my words last time?” 

She stood up straight, her fists clenched. Gone was the cowering woman. Here stood a strong and determined woman, who seemed very pissed off at Oliver. “I was seven years old and you told me that my father was a bad man. You looked me in the eye and told me it was better that he ran from us.” Blood rolled down her arm from clenching her fist too hard. “A demon trespassed into my room and broke my heart. What’s worse is when I asked my mom is he was a bad man, she only confirmed it.” 

“Then how can you be angry with me for telling the truth?” 

“Sheydim are supposed to lie.” She swiped at her face as angry tears rolled down her cheeks. “I ask again are you going to help me?” 

Oliver sat his cane in front of him, both hands on top. He could leave and let her deal with her problem. It wasn’t his after all. Something inside of him nagged at his stomach. That anger he felt when he first saw her wound. His pupils spread until his entire eye became black. This human woman stirred something deep within. Something he couldn’t explain. It was wrong. Humans shouldn’t be able to cause a reaction in demons. He decided right then, he would do this once. He would help her once without asking for payment and then he would never interact with her again. No matter what kind of pull she had on him. No matter if she prayed for his assistance again. 

“Where is he?” 

“In the living room.” 

“Where is your mother?” 

“Hiding in her bedroom too.” 

“Stay here.” He turned toward the door. 

Oliver crept down the hall slowly. He found a man sitting in the darkness. The only light came from the television set flashing across his face. He was a young, good looking man, but hidden beneath that pretty facade was someone as dark-hearted as he. Oliver got closer. He leaned on his good leg as he lifted his can. With as much force as he could muster, which was a lot by human standards, he slammed the metal tip into the man’s kneecap, shattering it instantly. The boyfriend screamed out in pain, falling to the floor as he gripped his knee. 

“Who the hell are you?” the man asked between sobs. 

Oliver didn’t answer. Instead, he slammed his cane into the man’s face. Not as hard this time, but hard enough to break some teeth and send blood flying from his mouth. The man cried out. Oliver pressed the tip of the cane against the man’s throat and stared down at him with eyes as black as night. 

“You will leave this place,” he said as wings burst forth from his back. “You will never speak to the Smoak family again or I will find you and shove this threw your throat.” 

He lifted the cane and the man scrambled upward. As best he could with a shattered kneecap anyway. He stumbled out of the apartment, begging for help from a neighbor. Oliver melted back to human and adjusted his tie. He could feel Felicity staring at him from the hallway. He turned blue eyes on her. 

“I told you to stay.” 

She stared at him with horror written all over her face. 

He was sure she would not call to him again. “Go to your mother.” He said before he vanished back to his apartment.

* * *

_Oliver. Oliver. Oliver. _

He opened his eyes to the ceiling above him. It had only been two days since he saw Felicity. Sent the abusive boyfriend away from her mother. Now she was calling to him again. It wasn’t a prayer, she was actually calling to him. Using his name. He stared up at the ceiling and shook his head. He would not answer her call. This was not the way things were done. 

Oliver got out of bed. Shirtless and wearing dark sweatpants. He made himself a cup of coffee and looked out at the city from his bedroom. His room was as dark as the rest of his apartment. His sheets were silk and black. His bed was a minimalistic style and made in metal with matching bedside tables and dressers. He noted his head did not ache as much as the previous two times. He wondered why that was, but decided not to think about it too much. It was best not to question good things. 

_Oliver, please. I know you can hear me._

He ground his teeth together. Whatever she wanted, she would not have it. He drank his black coffee and shuffled around his apartment, limping only slightly without his cane. Felicity continued to whisper across his thoughts, asking for him to come to her. She refused to give specifics. She only asked for him to come. Oliver was a demon. He would not be pushed around by a damned human. He threw his cup in the sink, shattering it completely. 

Oliver grabbed his cane and walked with purpose toward his favorite chair. He was not going to let her do this to him. He decided two nights ago he was not going to go to her anymore and that was final. Helping her had obviously been a mistake. 

_Please, Oliver? I’m not going to ask you for anything. I just want to talk. I swear. _

Oliver growled and began to get dressed.


	3. Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm late, again!! don't hate me, i'm trying. i'm hoping to get the next chapter out within the next couple of days and then my goal is to post the last chapter on halloween. wish me luck and as always please enjoy!

Felicity spent two days wondering if she had gone completely insane. It was one thing when she was a child to imagine a demon coming into her room to speak with her, but as an adult. No, she must have lost her mind. Still, her mother’s boyfriend was gone. There was very real blood splattered on the couch and carpet in her mom’s apartment. But she and Donna Smoak were safe. He left. Without a single word, he was gone. Part of her worried he would still come back, but how could he after that showing. She certainly wouldn’t come back if a demon told her not to. 

What was she thinking? A demon. A fucking demon. She prayed and a demon answered her. For the second time in her life a demon answered her. What was wrong with her that God wouldn’t answer her prayers, but a demon would. How was this real? Did she have some sort of connection with this demon, with Oliver? What kind of sense does that make? Why would she have a connection with a demon? So many questions not enough answers. 

Felicity knelt by her bed, in her own apartment, wondering if there was even a point. She couldn’t pray to God, but she could ask Oliver for help. She could ask him for answers for all of this. Her blond hair fell around her shoulders. She pressed her elbows into her mattress and leaned her weight into her knees. She wore a short red dress, barely above her knees, though fell over them as she knelt. It was the color of freshly picked cherries in the summer. It brought out the paleness of her skin and the light pink of her cheeks. She wore lipstick that was bright pink. Oliver might have called it the color of her soul. Or maybe aura. 

Oliver, please. She thought as hard as she could. 

Felicity begged for him to come. She had no idea if he would. He couldn’t respond back to her, so she had no idea if he was going to come. After several minutes, she had to give up and decide her message had been sent and he would either be there or he wouldn’t. She spread her arms across the bed and laid her cheek on the cool sheets. She only wanted to understand. Mysteries were her nemesis. She hated them. They needed to be solved. She closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. 

The room around her was as bright as she was. The bedding was striped, pink, orange, and yellow. Her furniture was white, her bed, matching bedside tables, and dresser. The rug she knelt on was bohemian style in the same colors as her bedding. In her vanity, a reflection of the room; the orange curtains, the beautiful bed, the girl who was giving up hope. 

A rush of wind blue through the room. Oliver’s cane clacked on the wooden floor. She turned toward him as his wings folded behind him. Her eyes ran over him, taking in the sight of him. She had never taken the time to really look at him. She felt wrong thinking he was handsome. Demons were supposed to be horrible, ugly creatures. But Oliver, he had a hard, sculpted jaw which was lined with scruff. From a few feet away, she could see the bluest eyes she had ever seen. At least when they weren’t black. He dressed well. Tailored suits that were probably Italian. All black. The only hint of color on him were those blue eyes. 

“You rang.” His wings melted away as he spoke. 

Felicity pushed herself off the floor. “I wanted answers.” She smoothed out her dress. “I want to know why I can call to you and why you answer.” 

His jaw tensed. “What if I can’t answer you?” 

“I don’t believe that.” 

“I don’t have all the answers.” He glanced down at his sleeve and flicked a piece of lint off the fabric. 

“That doesn’t mean I’m not going to ask.” She felt herself getting angry. He was the one who entered her life. He answered her prayers when he didn’t have to. “Let’s move into the living room.” 

Felicity led him out of her bedroom and into her living room. Her apartment was small, but warm. The colors from the bedroom continued into the living room. Her loveseat was tan with orange and pink throw pillows. Her favorite recliner was a softer pink color. On her glass coffee table sat a decorative bowl and a large coffee table book full of puppy pictures. Her walls were beige, but her landlord wouldn’t let her paint. On her wall hung a large movie poster, Errol Flynn’s Robin Hood. She could feel Oliver looking at every little thing. Studying her apartment, studying her. 

“Do you want anything to drink? Do demons drink or eat anything?” She frowned and fiddled with her fingers in front of her. 

He smirked. “Black coffee would be fine.” 

She nodded. “Sit anywhere,” she said as she walked toward her little galley kitchen. 

Felicity watched him carefully from her kitchen. He stood for a moment, still looking around her apartment. He leaned against his cane. She wondered why he used a cane. He did seem to have a small limp, but demons shouldn’t be able to get injured, right? What did she know? She knew nothing about demons. What she knew, she learned in Hebrew school and it was very little. Good girls didn’t talk about demons or ask their teachers about them either. 

Finally, he sat down on the sofa. He spread his legs slightly and let the cane settle between them. She focused on making coffee. She could have pulled out the French press and made real coffee, but she pulled out one of those little k-cups and used her single cup coffee maker instead. She tapped her fingers along the counter. There was a demon in her living room. She bit her lip. _There was a demon in her living room._ Nerves knotted up in her stomach. What the hell was she doing? 

The coffee maker beeped, startling her. 

“Are you alright, Felicity?” Her named rolled off his tongue like sin. 

She shivered. “I’m fine.” 

Felicity picked up the panda mug from her trip to the San Diego Zoo, now filled with black coffee, and carried it to Oliver. He leaned his cane against the coffee table and took the mug in both hands. His eyes moved over the pandas, they lit up with an edge of laughter, but he held it in. The light left his eyes as soon as it was there. She sat in her chair, hugging a pillow to her chest. 

“Why did you answer my prayers?” 

“To stop the pain.” 

She startled. “I caused you pain?” 

He thought about it for a moment. “When you’re in a panic, yes. This last time, no.” He sipped his coffee. 

“What do you mean?” 

“When you called me the first two times, a sharp pain struck me here.” He pressed his fingers between his eyes. 

“I didn’t mean to call you.” 

“I know that.” 

“Why are you the only one who can hear me?” 

“I do not know the answer to that.” 

She squeezed her pillow tightly. 

Oliver sighed and set his coffee down. “Demons are not supposed to have connections to humans. They aren’t supposed to answer prayers. This isn’t right.”

“That’s helpful.” 

“I told you I don’t have all the answers.” 

“I was hoping you were lying.” 

“You seem to think I lie a lot.” 

Felicity looked away from him. She had nothing to say to that. She had been taught that demons were horrible, ugly creatures. She had been taught that they were liars and thieves. Her stomach continued to twist into a nauseating nervous knot. She shouldn’t have asked him to come. This wasn’t going to get her anywhere. He didn’t have any answers. 

“This was a bad idea. You should leave.” 

“Ask me your other question.” 

“How do you-“ 

“Ask me your other question.” 

She sighed, forcing her gaze upon him. “Why did you help me? You answered me because you were in pain, but as soon as you came to me you could have left.” 

He leaned forward, his deep blues penetrating into her. She swore, he was looking right into her soul. Maybe he was. “There was something about you.” 

She rolled her eyes. “What? Couldn’t say no to a pretty girl?” 

“Do you really think I thought that of you when you were a child?”

She blanched. “No.” 

“There is a light within you that calls to me. Your soul is brighter than any I have ever seen. Even your aura it speaks to me, it shines around you the color of a spring dawn. As a demon, I want to smother that light. Take it from you.” His eyes bled to black and she leaned away from him. “But part of me wants to protect that light and I don’t understand why.” 

Felicity held the pillow tight enough, she thought it might burst with stuffing. Her breath caught in her throat. The look on his face when he spoke was so intense. It was as he could taste her soul like candy on his tongue. He could have stolen it away from her at any moment and yet he was holding back. She swallowed thickly and loosened her grip on the throw pillow. 

“What do we do?” 

“Get used to each other, I suppose.”

* * *

A week later, Felicity found herself sitting in front of a fan. Nevada heat. She was really thinking about moving someplace cooler. Maybe somewhere up north. She leaned all the way back in her couch until her butt nearly slid off. Her legs were bent and her feet pressed into the coffee table, leaving marks she would have to clean up later. Her yellow dress scrunched up at her thighs. She pulled her hair back into a tight and tall ponytail. In one hand, she held a cool glass of lemonade, a reusable straw pointed in her direction. She sipped it slowly. 

“I wonder what Oliver is doing?” She asked the room. 

Two minutes later, a rush of wind came through the room. It blew across her skin, cooling her down at least for a second. 

“Do that again.” She mumbled. 

He stood before her, his cane in one hand, but no wings in sight. Oliver raised a brow at her. She blushed profusely and pulled her dress down. Felicity scrambled up into an actual sitting position, nearly spilling her lemonade in the process. 

“I didn’t know you could hear me if I spoke your name.” 

“You must have been thinking about me too.” He leaned on his cane and stepped forward. 

She blushed and shook her head. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

His lips twitched with the threat of a smile. “As you say.” 

He sat down in the chair as she settled back into the couch. She smoothed out her dress and tried not to seem nervous. She hadn’t actually intended to call him. She was curious about him, of course. And, well, she did want to spend more time with him. It was wrong! Very wrong. Good Jewish girls didn’t spend time with demons. But the last time they spoke, he said he wanted to protect her. At least part of him wanted to. It meant there was something different about him. Could he have some good, some light inside him too? 

“If you didn’t mean to call me, I can always leave?” 

“No,” she said a little too quickly. “I mean, no. I’m not that rude.” 

He smiled, a real smile, it was bright and beautiful. She let out a slow shaky breath and forced herself to look away. She reminded herself for what seemed like the hundredth time that he was a demon and crushes on demons were stupid. She had known him for a little over a week. Meeting him twenty years ago didn’t count, she had been a child. But dammit, Oliver was handsome and he was kind. He was probably the most interesting man she had ever met. Good lord, she had seen him beat a man, a terrible man, and she still wanted to be around him. 

“What are you thinking so hard about?” 

“You mean you can’t hear it when I’m thinking about you?” She blurted out before she could stop herself. 

Oliver chuckled. It was a nice laugh. The kind that rolled across her skin and tickled down her spine. She picked up a pillow and shoved her face into it. Felicity screamed into the pillow, which only made him laugh harder. Goosebumps appeared over her flesh. 

“I cannot hear your thoughts or when you say my name aloud, but I came here by choice,” he said a little breathless. 

Felicity peeked at him over the pillow. “You’re mean.” 

“No one has ever accused me of being kind.” 

She frowned, not really knowing if she believed that. Of course, he was a demon, but the way he showed her kindness it was hard for her to believe no one but she had ever seen this side of him. Could it be true? 

“I see that doubt written all over your face, but what I say is true. I am not a kind… demon.” She wondered if he was going to say, man. “I have been around for a very long time and I have done things that would make you turn away from me.” 

“Then why are you here?” 

“Why don’t you send me away?” 

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither had an answer for the other. 

“When you arrived… why didn’t you have wings?” She asked, quickly changing the subject.

“I need less power when I know where I’m going. I can also travel a lot faster.” 

She pondered that for a moment. “Where do you live?” 

“Star City, Washington.” 

She pressed her lips together. 

“Only demons who have been locked away live in fiery pits, Felicity.” He tsked. 

“So, you have an apartment?”

He nodded. 

“Why do you walk with a cane?” 

“Old injury.” 

“I didn’t think demons could have old injuries. Don’t you just heal like…. vampires or something,” she mumbled the last three words as she looked away. Her cheeks turned a bright shade of red. 

“Vampires.” She could hear the smirk in Oliver’s voice. “Most injuries we heal, but not if they are made by other demons or celestial beings.” 

“Celestial beings… angels.” Her eyes widened. “What happened?” 

“An angel tried to lock me away and I fought back.” 

She knew she wasn’t going to get anymore information than that, but she could do a lot of imagining with that. Angels and demons fighting. Good against evil. She stopped and thought about that for a moment. Good versus evil? Things weren’t so black and white. Oliver definitely didn’t seem that way. Still, the imagery was quite something. She wondered how long ago it was. A hundred years ago? A thousand? Were there swords? 

“Whatever you are imagining, I can assure you it was not that exciting.” 

“You have no idea what I’m imagining.” 

“Do not make me some hero in your head, Felicity. I’m still a demon.” 

She stood suddenly. “I’m not, but… don’t tell me what to think. I make decisions for myself.” 

“You look at me with wonder as if I’m something ... good, I’m not.” 

Felicity shook her head. “You’re arguing with me for no reason. You’re here because you want to be. Because you’re what… drawn to me? Don’t start pushing me away.” 

He stood, leaning on his cane. “I shouldn’t have come here.” 

“Wait.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. 

A jolt went through her. Lightning spread from her fingertips to her chest. Hot and fast. Her breath left her suddenly. Oliver let go of her so fast, she knew he felt it too. He took a step away from her, staring at her and his fingertips. She pressed her hand into her chest and took in a deep breath. There was something going on between them. Something strange. Something powerful. 

“Don’t leave,” she whispered. 

“We shouldn’t have started this.” 

“It’s too late to go back.” 

“It’s never too late.” And then he was gone. 

“Oliver, god dammit, come back.”


	4. Repercussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> take a breath and get ready
> 
> p.s thought i'd share an edit i made ;)

  


Oliver stared at his fingers. What the hell was happening to him? A human should not have such an effect on him. That jolt between them was like nothing he had ever felt before. Not in his many years. He rubbed his finger and thumb together as if he might feel that electric tingle again, but nothing happened. Oliver sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into. No, he wasn’t getting himself into anything. He was putting a stop to it now. That was it. He would not answer Felicity anymore. He would put her behind him and keep moving forward with his job. 

“Oliver,” Dinah called his name. 

He gripped his cane and pushed himself up. He made his way to the front counter and picked up his cup of coffee. The hand which held the coffee started to burn. A stabbing pain formed in the middle of his palm as if something were branding his palm. He dropped the coffee with a wet shatter. 

“What the hell- Oh shit,” Dinah’s voice dropped low. 

Every demon eye stared at him as his hand splayed wide and white light burned bright from the middle of his palm. His entire arm shook with pain. He gritted his teeth, grunting, but refusing to scream. His other hand gripped the tip of his cane until his knuckles turned white. He leaned into it as much as he could. Sweat dripped down his face. It burned so deep, so hot, and there was only one reason for this agony. 

The burning slowed and the light faded away leaving a demonic mark in the middle of his hand. “The King has called you,” Dinah whispered. “What have you done, Oliver?” 

He didn’t dare close his hand out of fear of aggravating the mark. He used his sleeve to wipe away some of the sweat and let out a slow breath. “I haven’t done anything.” 

“He knows all.” 

The rest of the demons in the room now refused to look at him. The only reason the King of Demons called upon one of them was if they had done something wrong. Demons were supposed to corrupt the living, send them on the path of darkness and destruction, so their souls were ripe for the taking. All souls belonged to the King. There were demons who played games with humans. Give them something and in return, the demons could take their soul before death. Shit. He had done something for Felicity. He didn’t grant wishes. But this wasn’t a wish, it was a prayer. Shit, shit, shit. Not only had he done good by stopping corruption from happening, but he had also done her a favor and he hadn’t taken her soul. That was an angel's work. 

He would be lucky if the King didn’t slaughter him on sight. 

“I can see it in your eyes,” she said. “What did you do?” 

“I…” he swallowed. He didn’t want to say it out loud because it would make it true and real. “I granted a favor and didn’t take a soul.” 

Dinah gave him a disgusted look. “How bright was this soul, Oliver?” 

His voice dropped past a whisper. “The brightest I had ever seen.” 

“This soul could change the world and you let it slip through your fingers!” She shrieked for all the room to hear. “Leave! Go to your fate. You will not find pity here!” 

“I don’t want your pity!” He growled, his eyes bleeding to black. 

“Leave before I do something we’ll both regret.” 

Oliver bared his teeth. His canines had lengthened into large fangs that threatened to tear her throat out. Before he could completely transform into his feel demon form, he forced himself to pull away and focus on going to the King of Demons. He traveled faster than he ever had before. When he arrived he stood with his human face turned toward a large throne. The throne was eons old made of stone and skulls. The man who sat upon it was the fiercest being he had ever come across. He was in luck because he also wore his human face. In lore, it was said that if a human were ever to see his true face their soul would instantly leave their body and death would befall them. 

The man who sat before him was tall and lean. His dark brown hair was slicked back. He had pale skin and sharp lines that built a handsome face. Piercing blue eyes stared down at him. A grin played along his lips, one that made Oliver nervous. He wore a tan suit with a white button-up shirt and a pink tie. Everything seemed so calm and demure. It was a lie. 

“Oliver,” he said in an almost melodic tone. He pushed himself off the throne and walked down about twelve steps to meet Oliver down at the bottom. “I’m so glad you could come to meet me.” 

Without another word, he grabbed onto Oliver’s injured hand and pressed his thumb into the wound. Oliver yelled. The King pressed harder until Oliver dropped his cane and went down on his knees. He pressed in a circle as if he were trying to roll the burnt skin right off of his hand. 

“Do you beg for mercy?” He whispered. 

“No,” Oliver choked. 

“A wise decision.” He bent Oliver’s wrist backward almost to the point of snapping. “The only wise decision you have made thus far.” 

Oliver looked up into those cold blue eyes. He swallowed hard and nodded. He would not say a word against him. He should have been more careful. Oliver knew the King had spies everywhere. He knew everything that went on with every demon. It was his kingdom and he was going to rule it with an iron fist. Oliver swallowed his pain as tears formed in his eyes. 

“Who is the girl?” 

He hesitated. 

The King chuckled. “Do not disobey me, Oliver.” He pressed into the would and bent his hand back until there was a loud pop. 

Oliver swallowed his scream. Sweat broke out across his face again. His breathing was heavy as he tried to hold in all that pain. 

“Who is the girl?” 

He gritted his teeth together. 

The King lifted his other hand. A sword as old as time appeared in his grasp. “Answer me or it will be your last.” 

Oliver glared at the blade and glared at the king. He didn’t want to give Felicity up. He was surprised the King didn’t know her name, but he was thankful. 

“Just because I do not have her name does not mean I will not find her. I know where you have been. I will send others if you will not do the task I seek.” 

“Felicity. Her name is Felicity Smoak.” 

The sword disappeared and the King let go of Oliver’s hand. He fell forward and caught himself on his wounded wrist. He swallowed whimpers of pain and closed his eyes tight. The King tutted. 

“Such disgrace.” 

Oliver looked up at him. 

“Felicity Smoak.” The King rolled the name over on his tongue as he would a piece of delicious candy. He tasted the name, savored it, and learned everything he could about it. He didn’t need a phone to look up a name. He was the database. “If corrupted could be powerful for our side, but seems difficult to sway now that her father is out of the picture. She might be the brightest of this age and you have let it gone too far.” He swung a hearty kick into Oliver’s ribs. 

Oliver knew these wounds would take months if not longer to heal. But it could have been worse. “What do you ask of me?” 

“Take her soul and bring it to me,” he said. “It is too late to corrupt it. I want her out of the picture entirely. If you do not do as I ask in the next three hours I will send someone else to do the task and you will be finished.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He reached for his cane, moving up onto his knees he pressed it into the ground and forced himself onto his feet. Oliver was gone before the King could say another word.

* * *

Oliver didn’t know how but two hours had already gone by when he finally arrived at Felicity’s. He was wearing a cast on his wrist and his hand was bandaged underneath. His rib was cracked and wrapped as well. His body throbbed with pain, but his wrist hurt the most. He couldn’t remember anyone having done that to him before. It would heal, eventually. He might have a weak wrist, an injury like his knee because a demon had laid hands on him. The burn on his hand would be a scar. Not many demons had them because not many demons lived after being summoned. 

Oliver knocked on Felicity’s door for once. 

The door swung open. She stood there staring at him for a long moment. He wanted to be happy to see her, but all he felt was fear. He took her in. Her beautiful face etched with worry. Her arms crossed across her chest. She wore a short red dress, a heart cutout at the chest, and red heels to match. She looked like she had someplace to go, but instead, she was here filled with worry for him. “What happened?” 

“It doesn’t matter. You’re in danger.” 

“What?” She stepped back away from the door, letting him in. 

He pushed his way through the door and slammed it shut. “I was supposed to corrupt your soul. I screwed up. Now the King of Demons has an interest in your soul.” 

Felicity swallowed audibly. “Stop.” 

“I’m supposed to be here to take it from you.” 

She took a few steps back until she hit the couch. “You can’t do that.” 

“Felicity, you have to listen to me.” 

“Were you going to do this all along?” 

He let out a shaky breath. “No. I was going to leave you alone. I was going to let you live. I thought I was never going to come back here.” 

Felicity gripped the top of the couch. She looked away from him. He watched her, thinking. She was thinking so hard. He was so scared. They only had so much time and he could feel each minute, each second ticking by. Felicity licked her ruby red lips and nodded. 

“I believe you. You said you wanted to protect me and I believe you. There’s something between us, you’re running from it, but I don’t want to.” 

He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know what it is, but it scares me.” 

“What are we going to do now? How are you going to stop them from taking my soul?” 

“You have to trust me.” 

“I trust you.” 

“I’m going to take it,” she looked at him as if he were crazy. “I’m not going to let them have it. I swear to you I will keep it safe. Trust me.” 

She took a few steps towards him. “You promise, you swear to me, you won’t give it to anyone else.” 

He cupped her cheek. “I would rather die than let them have your soul.” It was true. He realized it as he said it. Her soul was unlike anything he had ever seen. It was so bright, so full of life. She was unlike any human he had ever met. So beautiful, so vivacious, so sweet, and wonderful. He had had so many humans look at him with fear and yet she stood there and believed in him. His heart beat stronger than it had in a thousand years. 

She brought his wounded hand down to her chest. “Keep it safe.” 

With his uncovered fingers, he could feel the flicker of her soul beneath her chest. The warmth of the light. It called to him. He dropped his cane on the floor with a clatter. He cupped her cheek with the other hand and leaned down to press his lips against hers. That spark flowed through them. Electricity buzzed at their lips. He kissed her slowly. His tongue swept across her lower lip. She gasped, parting her lips for him. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth. His fingers dove into her blonde curls. He held it tight as he bent her head back. His tongue explored her mouth. Deep inside of her, her soul stirred. He pulled at the little pulsing ball of light. It swam up her throat as he kissed her. He pulled back just enough. His tongue slipped out of her mouth and the ball of the light crossed along his tongue and into his mouth. 

He swallowed the warmth. It settled inside of him like it was meant to be there. Something inside of him stirred beside it as if it were answering Felicity’s soul. He ignored it. Felicity took a deep breath and pulled away from him. There was a dullness about her now. No glowing light within her chest. Her hair had lost its golden shine, her cheeks less rosy, and her blue eyes didn’t sparkle. Everything was just… dull. Still, she smiled up at him, a little breathless. 

“Is that how you always take souls?” 

“No,” he brushed a piece of hair out of her face and kissed her again just because he could. 

“Isn’t that sweet?” 

Oliver whipped around. He stood on shaky legs, but he did his best to put his body in front of Felicity’s. “Tommy.” 

“Big boss man knew you wouldn’t get the job done.” 

“You can’t touch her.” Oliver slowly reached down and grabbed his cane. 

Tommy took a step closer. Oliver gritted his teeth. He lunged forward, throwing all of his body weight into Tommy. He cringed as they came down. His knee slammed into the floor and his ribs throbbed, but he refused to let Tommy have her. 

“You’ve gone mad.” Tommy struggled against him. 

“Run, Felicity, run!” 

He punched Tommy in the face with his good hand which was a little awkward because it was his left. Felicity jumped over their bodies and went running for the stairs. Oliver stumbled to his feet, picking up his cane again. He didn’t want to fight Tommy. Demons didn’t really have friends, but if they did, he would have considered Tommy one. 

“Don’t make me do this!” He held his cane like a weapon ready to fight. 

“I could say the same to you,” Tommy spat. ”But you know what happens if I don’t follow orders.” 

Tommy pushed himself up and ran down the hall toward the stairs. Oliver followed as fast as he could. “Shit,” he whispered. 

He climbed the stairs, stumbling a bit until he reached the roof. Oliver stopped at the sight before him. Tommy was hissing at a white light before him. Felicity was on the ground, passed out. Oliver winced at the light, but he didn’t hiss away in pain the way Tommy did. 

The light began to dull as he got closer. Standing before him was a man, dark-skinned and tall. He dressed in neutral colors, white and tan. He looked at Oliver with interest. 

“Diggle,” he held out his hand, but Oliver declined it. He knew his name wasn’t truly Diggle. This angel had been the one to wound him centuries ago. Oliver would keep his true name to himself, but he would not accept his hand. 

“What did you do to her?” 

“She is fine.” 

“Not going to ask about my wellbeing?” Tommy snarked. 

Oliver glared at him. 

“You cannot have him or her,” Diggle said. 

“Why?” Tommy asked. 

“They are ours.” 

Oliver took a step back and moved toward Felicity. “I do not belong to you.” 

“You have done good. You’ve done the acts of angels. Of course, you belong to us.”

“How does that makeup for centuries of being a demon?” Tommy hissed. 

“You see there is something special about Oliver we have noticed that we didn’t notice before.” 

“You mean when you tried to throw me in the pits?” Oliver knelt down beside Felicity to check on her breathing. 

“My apologies.” 

Tommy took a step away from Diggle. Diggle moved closer to Oliver and touched his shoulder. His touch was warm like the sun. It should have hurt him like it had so many years ago. 

“You have a piece of soul inside of you… your own soul. A tiny sliver. It was hardly noticeable. Hardly there when you were first created, but it has grown. Most of it has happened in the last couple of weeks.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Tommy yelled. “Demon’s don’t have souls.” 

“Then he must not truly be a demon,” he said matter of factly. 

Oliver let this swirl around in his head. It made his head ache and his stomach knot up. This wasn’t right. “I’m not an angel either.” 

“You might be.” 

“I’m not!” He yelled, standing once again. Anger and fear fought inside of him. “I don’t want any part of what you do.” 

“Hey! Does anyone remember that I’m here for her soul.” Tommy gestured toward Felicity. 

“I told you, you can’t have her.” 

“What am I supposed to tell my boss?”

”To take it up with my boss.” 

Tommy hissed at the angel. “You want to start a war over her? Over him? You cannot have them both.” 

“We have already won. There is nothing you can do.” 

“You can tell yourself that, but this isn’t over.” Tommy disappeared.

Diggle tilted his head as if he were listening to something. He nodded and reached out to Oliver. He gripped Oliver’s suit in a hold that was stronger than he anticipated. Oliver struggled and fought, but Diggle kept him in place and even pulled him up onto his tiptoes. 

“You are not a demon. You may not be an angel. But you are going to get an opportunity that most do not get. A second chance to prove yourself.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“This,” Diggle dragged him toward the edge of the building and threw him over the edge. 

The last thought that went through his mind was Felicity. He had failed her.


	5. Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming with me on this journey. October is my favorite time of the year and I have so much fun writing Halloween fics for you all every year! I can't believe I was thinking about skipping this year because I think this one is one of my favorites and I can definitely see myself writing in this verse again. I hope you all enjoyed it just as much as I did. Happy Halloween!
> 
> **warning:** depression and near suicidal thoughts

Felicity’s light continued to dull as the days went by. She had awakened in her apartment without a scratch on her, but no memory of how she had gotten there. She remembered Oliver coming to her apartment and taking her soul, but after that everything seemed a blur. She got bits and pieces, another demon, a bright light, but she could be wrong. Everything seemed wrong. Or she seemed wrong. Her whole body was wrong. 

It made the world around her feel off. Less bright. She felt an emptiness deep inside of her as if something were ripped away from her very being. Felicity wanted to know if losing her soul had done this to her. All the light was gone from her, from the world, and the only logical explanation was the loss of her soul. How could that be? Something she didn’t even realize she had was such a huge part of her. It held her emotions and her passions. Without it, she was empty. She felt nothing. 

Felicity hadn’t left her apartment in a week. Her thoughts drifted to Oliver often. She trusted him. She trusted him with her life, but he hadn’t come back. Something had happened to him. She just knew it. But there was nothing she could do about it. She had no energy to do anything anyway. She barely had enough energy to get dressed in the morning. Most days she sat on the couch and waited for the day to be over. There was no passion, no motivation, at this point she was lucky she worked from home as her own boss or she would have been fired. 

Not that she even cared about her job. 

Something caught her attention across the room. Light flickered. Little green sparks until suddenly green flames erupted in the middle of her living room. She covered her eyes, shielding from the bright light. Felicity’s eyes stayed on the floor as he arm stayed over her face. Brown shoes came into her field of vision paired with beige slacks. 

“Oliver?” She started to look up. 

She caught blue eyes that seemed like blue flames in a face that was most definitely not Oliver’s. Something inside her told her to look away. She kept her eyes off his face. Fear should have filled her, but still she felt nothing. She sat there with her eyes averted as a strange demon stood in her apartment. Felicity could very well be in danger and she just didn’t care. 

“You must be Felicity Smoak.” 

“I am.” 

His fingers caught her chin, tilting her head upward, but she refused to look at him. “At least he did his job before they took him.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I sent Oliver here to take your soul.” 

“Where did he go?”

“I might tell you if you looked at me.” 

“No.” 

He chuckled. “Such a feisty human.” 

She was beginning to get an idea of who he was. The King of Demons was the evil force in all the universe. The only thing that was missing were wings and a sword. Well, he might have a sword on him, she hadn’t actually looked. Why hadn’t she died? To look upon his face was supposed to be so terrifying her soul would leave her body and she would die instantly. 

But she didn’t have a soul.

She couldn’t die without a soul to leave her. Still, she refused to look upon him. “Where is he?” 

“It seems you have tainted him.” He pinched her chin harder. Hard enough to bruise. “The angels have taken him. Or killed him.” 

She couldn’t tell if he was lying. “Stop.” 

He threw her back onto the couch. She blinked, peering carefully at his chest. 

“He’s not coming back.” 

“You’re a liar.” 

“He took your soul and now he’s gone. You’re going to live the rest of your days, which are few like this,” he laughed. It was a disgusting laugh. It slithered across her skin like a snake. 

“Leave me alone!” 

“You are no longer my problem.”

With another burst of green flames, he was gone. 

Felicity couldn’t even bring herself to cry. There wasn’t enough emotion inside of her for the tears to spill. There wasn’t enough emotion for her to feel angry. There was nothing for her to do but sit there feeling empty. 

“God,” she whispered. “Let him come back.” As if God would answer her.

* * *

Two more days passed and there was still no sign of Oliver. Felicity wondered if the King of Demons was right. Had Oliver been taken? Was he dead? Questions filled her mind, but emotions refused to follow. She could sit there and wonder, but at least she wouldn’t worry. Some part of her hated it. She should be worrying about Oliver. She should be worrying about herself. Felicity screamed and tugged at her hair. It did nothing. There was no point. The only thing it got her was her neighbor hitting the ceiling with the broom and yelling at her to shut up. 

The King of Demons was right about another thing. She couldn’t see herself living like this much longer. No one could live without a soul. It was an empty life. Nothing brought joy. Food tasted like sand. There was no point to anything. There was no point to living. 

She looked up at the ceiling. “Why did you take him from me? Why can’t I have him back? Why can’t I have my soul back? Please! Please answer me just this once. Just this once.” 

Silence filled the room. It was as empty as she was. 

The door fell open and Oliver stumbled inside. He fell to his knees, dropping a cane that wasn’t his and a dingy looking duffel bag. His hands hit the floor, both of them unbandaged and healed. He was dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a plaid button-up shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to the elbows and he looked rather dirty. He panted and looked up at her with tired eyes. 

“I’m sorry…” 

“Oliver.” She ran to him, falling to her knees in front of him. “Where did you go?” She put her hands on either side of his face. “What happened?” 

“I have something to give you first.” He took in a breath and kissed her lips. 

It wasn’t the same as before. It was quicker. The soul came up his throat and slid between their lips. She could feel the warmth pass between them and settle inside her. The light clicked into place like the last piece of the puzzle. Warmth washed over her. She pulled back from him, gasping. Emotions filled her. It happened so quickly it became overwhelming. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Happiness, anger, sadness, everything at once, and she cried. 

“Oliver,” she sobbed.

He wrapped his arms around her. “I’m so sorry. I tried to get here as fast as I could.” 

“What happened?” She asked again tears streaming down her face.

“It’s a long story.” He held her tight. 

She buried her face in his chest. “Tell me.” She sniffled, trying to calm down. 

“An angel… the angel that gave me my knee injury…. he… he made me human.” 

“What?” She pulled back and looked at his face. Really looked at his face. “You mean… no more demon eyes.” She had both hands on either side of his face again. 

He put his hands on hers. “No more eyes, no more wings… I’m human.” He smiled. “The angel dropped me in another state… I’ve been trying to get to you… hitchhiking and walking.” 

“He healed your hand.” 

“But not my knee… it’s supposed to be lesson.” He rolled his eyes. “Fucking angels.” 

She leaned in and kissed his lips. “You’re human.” 

He tensed under her touch. 

“What’s wrong?” She looked into his eyes. Her heart pounded a little faster. Worry etched into her features. 

“Do you really want me?” 

“I wanted you when you were a demon.” 

“Why?” 

“Oliver… you and I are connected.”

“Is that the only reason?”

She stared into those deep blue eyes, searching them. All she saw was a thousand years of pain and loneliness, mistrust. “You are one of the kindest people I have ever met. You saved me when you didn’t have to. You took my soul and kept it safe. You kept your word. You’ve protected me in ways that no one else ever has. In some ways I’ve known you for twenty years and in others only a couple of weeks, but… I love you.” 

He let out a breath he seemed to be holding. “I love you too.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers again. 

Her lips parted and he slid his tongue inside. He kissed her more passionately than she had ever been kissed. He tasted along her tongue, savoring her mouth. She groaned into his mouth as she ran her fingers through his hair. He tickled the roof of her mouth with his tongue. She leaned into him, pulling at his shirt. He pulled back, giving her lips a last lingering peck. They panted heavily. Their lips barely brushing against each other. 

“We should probably get off the floor and close the door,” Oliver mumbled. 

“You’re so romantic.” 

He snorted. 

Felicity smiled, pulling back all the way. Oliver reached for his new cane. She hated it. It was a metal cane. The kind that reminded her of candy canes and it was a shiny obnoxious blue. It didn’t suit him at all. He pressed the rubber bottom into the wood floor and pushed himself up onto his feet. Once she could see his entire body, she could really see how unkempt he was. 

“Why don’t you take a shower?” 

He looked down at himself. “Yeah I could probably use one.” 

Felicity wiped at her face and looked down at her own body. She was a sight for sore eyes; dingy sweats and greasy hair. “Make that two showers.” She closed the door and locked it.

“I’ll be quick,” he promised.

She pointed him toward the bathroom and he took his bag in that direction. Felicity leaned against the door and let her hand settle against her chest. She looked toward the ceiling once more. She wasn’t sure if someone had really heard her. If someone was really listening now. Or if Oliver had stumbled in at that moment as a coincidence. What she did know in her heart of hearts was that she and Oliver were connected. Their souls were connected. Maybe that made them soulmates. Whatever it was, she knew she was never going to let him go. 

“No one in this universe is going to take him from me.”

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think!  
tumbr: felicityollies  
twitter: felicityollies


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